Chapter 8 Sienna
Sienna
The mirror above the bathroom sink looks like it’s been here since the house was built. Heavy gold frame, featuring intricate floral etchings on the corners, in spotless condition and reeking of money.
I blot my lipstick even though there’s nothing wrong with it, stalling for a few extra seconds of peace. I needed to get away from that table, away from the testosterone and tension and whatever the hell passes for small talk in this family.
Ben was tense and irritated the whole time. I’m not sure if he’s upset with me, his father and brother, or both, but I needed some me time that doesn’t have malice and grit grounded out in every syllable that was passed around the table.
Ben doesn’t like them. And far be it for me to ask why, because I don’t want to know. The last thing I need with everything going on is his family drama when I already have enough of my own being a new addition to this weird and untrustworthy dynamic.
When I finally step out, I freeze mid-step to find Nikolai leaning casually against the wall outside the restroom with his arms folded. His dark hair is a little mussed, his tie slightly loosened, and he looks at me with an expression that’s halfway between amused and curious.
Sorry,” I say automatically. “I didn’t know there was a line.”
He gives a short, low laugh. “There isn’t. I just needed a break from all the family fun.”
Right.
I’m silent for a moment, unsure what to say. I don’t know anything about him, other than that he irritates Ben. Compared to Ivan’s intense and Ben’s brooding presence, Nikolai seems like he’s the most down-to-earth one.
“So, you work at a bakery?”
The most normal thing that has been said to me all night.
“I do,” I reply. “I’ve…been working on opening my own.”
“Impressive. I’ll have to try it sometime.”
I bob my head, which appears like encouragement, but I’d rather he not for obvious reasons. “You like sweets.”
It’s not a question.
If I were the love of Ben’s life, I’d know all about him. It’d show, in this moment, that I’m aware Ben doesn’t like what I make.
“I do,” Nikolai replies. “Probably because we didn’t have much growing up.”
There’s something lighter about him compared to Ben and their father, but it’s not exactly comforting. If Ben is all coiled restraint, Nikolai is casual unpredictability. Like he could be dangerous, but he’d make a joke first.
“Were you guys close?”
I don’t know why I’m asking, other than filling in space and light conversation. Maybe, I’m also trying to feel him out a little.
“As kids, yes,” Nikolai confirms. “Growing up, though, we were pretty much pinned against each other.”
My face skews in part disbelief, part I’m not surprised because Ivan wouldn’t get my vote for Father of the Year. “That’s…”
Awful.
Stupid.
Mean.
I dare not say any of those things because I’m standing in the man’s house, and he’s part of the mob. God knows what kinds of things he doesn’t tolerate.
“Cruel,” Nikolai finally says in my place. “Ben and I haven’t been close since we were teenagers.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “It happens.”
Not like that.
However, I’m not going to throw my two cents in.
“I regret not fixing it,” he continues, sounding as though he’s reminiscing about it. “But too much time has passed—”
“I’m sure you can. If that’s something you want to do.”
“Eh, Ben doesn’t trust me.” He doesn’t seem to trust anyone. “He’s always been the serious one. The one with the plan. I’m the screw-up. The wild card. Maybe that’s why he picked you. He needed someone to keep him grounded…or on his toes, it seems like.”
He needs to be locked up and committed.
“We complement each other,” I offer like I should. “He pushes me to do things I never would’ve done otherwise.”
“You’re brave. Most people don’t stay long enough in a room with Ben.”
I shift my weight because I can see why. “He’s not that bad.”
Nikolai smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I could see why he’d stay in a room with you. Not only are you beautiful, but motivated. I’m happy he found you.”
“Thank you.”
“Just, word of advice, if I may?”
He steps closer, and I fight with everything in me not to counter his actions.
Something about Nikolai feels like an explosive waiting to go off with the timer.
The hairs on my arms rise on end, and I don’t know if it’s because this dinner was insanely competitive and tense or because I’m already on edge.
Or it’s him.
“If you are pregnant, take care of yourself. Ben is going to get possessive, as he should, to an extent. He wants to take my father’s seat at the highest rank there is, and he will do anything to obtain it over me.
Protect yourself because he’ll get overwhelmed, and men like us take it out on the people at our side. ”
“Are you both…” Oh, God, this is so unbelievably insane. “Trying to get this spot?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve been away for a long time, and having that kind of responsibility placed on me isn’t something that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. However, if Ben takes it, he’ll ship me out. He won’t allow me near the family business.”
“Maybe you should talk to him about that.”
“Ben will never forgive me for the things I’ve done.
And, before you hear it from him and he threatens you, speaking to me ever again, I was in prison, Sienna.
I made some mistakes, I pissed my brother off, and I’m a liability at the end of the day.
I’ve been recently released and…hence the awkward dinner. ”
I don’t know what to say to that. My brain throws up a blank screen and just hums with static.
He fills the silence, however, like it’s second nature.
“Look, I’m not here to climb ladders or play those power games.
I’ve seen where that road goes, and I don’t want it.
I want to take a little time, travel maybe.
Eat food that isn’t served on a metal tray, go somewhere warm, meet a girl who isn’t interested in the last name on my ID.
” He smirks, like the thought alone is a relief.
“Start over. No blood feuds, no chess pieces, no…this.”
His gaze flicks toward the dining room, toward the table where Ben and their father are probably still measuring each other in thinly veiled insults.
“And for what it’s worth,” he adds, softer now, “I do care what happens to you. The deeper you get in with Ben, the harder it’ll be to breathe. Just…keep your eyes open, okay?”
I don’t know what to say to that.
My brain supplies nothing helpful, just a carousel of inappropriate questions I probably shouldn’t ask a man fresh out of prison.
“That sounds…normal,” I say, because I can’t think of another word that fits.
“That’s the point.” He smiles. “Normal is underrated. People act like they want excitement, but it’s exhausting. Trust me. I had years of…excitement.”
Years in prison, he means.
He leans his shoulder against the doorframe, tilting his head. “I don’t know you, but you seem like someone worth protecting. Stay clear of the storm if you can. My brother…he’s not going to make it easy.”
That hits home when it shouldn’t.
But, before I can respond, a shadow cuts across the hallway. I jolt and glance over to find Benedikt striding slowly toward us.
He doesn’t look tense, doesn’t give off that sharp, crackling energy he had at the dinner table. If anything, he’s too calm, like he’s been looming long enough to know exactly what’s been said.
“Nikolai,” Ben says smoothly. “Didn’t realize you were making friends.”
His brother just smirks. “She’s good company.”
“And then some.”
Nik pushes off the doorframe. “Don’t keep her locked away, Ben. She’s more interesting than you are.”
Benedikt doesn’t rise to the bait. Just looks at him for a beat too long, that measured stare of his that says more than words. Then his hand brushes my lower back, and I’m already walking with him toward the foyer.
Ivan’s there, smiling like we just finished the most pleasant dinner of our lives instead of one where the air was thick enough to cut.
Regardless, I can’t stop staring at the door behind him.
“I trust you enjoyed the meal,” he conveys pleasantly, folding his hands together in front of him.
“It was great,” I lie. “Thank you so much for the lovely evening.”
I never want to do it again. And Ben will never be able to drag me here without kicking and screaming bloody murder.
“I’ve taken the liberty of booking you an appointment for tomorrow morning,” he says, as if he’s mentioning the weather. “Eight o’clock sharp. Private clinic. They’ll be expecting you, Sienna.”
My stomach drops.
He knows.
Or at least he thinks he knows.
“That’s…thoughtful,” I manage, even though all I can think is I have no idea how to fake an entire pregnancy in front of a man who could probably have me killed for lying.
Ben’s arm slides around my waist, steady. “We’ll be there.”
I glance up at him, trying to see if he’s panicking on the inside.
He’s not.
He looks like a man confirming brunch plans.
Ivan beams. “Good. I’ll expect updates.”
“Of course,” Ben says, smooth as glass.
Then he thanks his father for dinner like the night was nothing but polite conversation, and we’re walking out into the night air.
Only when the car door shuts behind us do I let myself breathe clearly for the first time.